It was too hot to sleep. London got like this in summer.
The walls of the terrace house had baked in the sun all day and now were releasing that heat into the house. The old sash windows were open, but the net curtain sat perfectly still. The fans plugged into every room just cycled the heat around. And the lads? The lads were spread out in their respective bedrooms, doors open wide—three tired, naked bodies overheating in the thick soup, and residual lager.
Their rooms faced each other. If Liam and Ant sat up they could see each other spread out, bollocks resting low between their thighs. Liam shared with Gav, two singles against opposing walls, Liam’s facing the door. Only Ant had the privilege of a double.
Ant broke the silence first.
“Oi,” he called out, voice hoarse from Stella and vape hits, “You two still alive or have you both drowned in your own bollock sweat?”
Gav answered with a belch that echoed like it came from his spine.
Liam gave a breath of a laugh but said nothing. Just lay on his back, legs damp, fan doing fuck-all beside the bed.
Then: slap slap slap.
“Liam raised his head slightly, looking down his body and beyond. Ant’s hand was gliding up his thickening shaft.
“Is he doing what I think he’s doing?” Gav asked from the neighbouring bed, propping himself up on his arm.
“Can’t sleep, might as well bash one out!” Ant shouted across the hall.
Gav smirked, “You’re fucking disgusting.”
Ant fired back without missing a stroke. “Take’s one to know one, mate. I’ve seen that crusty sock under your bed.”
Liam shifted slightly, still quiet, his cock already beginning to stir from the stupid talk and the rhythmic, sticky slap from across the hall.
“Mate, you too?” Gav said, eyeing his expanding manhood.
Liam just raised his eyebrows in answer, and let his hand grasp the familiar feel of his dick.
“He beatin’ it too?” Ant shouted from across the hall.
“Must ‘ave turned him on, mate!”
Liam, who was now at his full 6.5 inches, watched his foreskin slide back.
“If you can’t beat ‘em!” he shot back.
Ant laughed and kept going.
Gav, whose own pole was now stretched out, laid back and wrapped his fist around it.
“Fine,” he muttered, as he went to town.
For a minute the only sound was slick foreskin rolling back and forth. Gav laid back with his arm behind his head, a thick matt of sweaty black hair poking up from his pit, eyes closed as he enjoyed the fresh sensation.
Liam glanced over at his mate, watching the flat of his stomach tense and untense with every stroke, and the thick, untrimmed mass of black pubes that curled out and up to his belly button.
“Hey, Liam? You can see us both, right?”
“Yeah?”
“Who’s packing the most?”
Liam laughed, as Gav opened his eyes, and thwacked his meat in his palm in emphasis. Sitting up, he caught sight of Ant’s dong. All three were uncut, all three sporting good size.
“You,” Liam shouted at Ant, who sat up and fist pumped the air.
“Fuck yeah!” he shouted.
“But I’m thickest,” Liam said, waving his own shaved manhood.
“Sucks to be you, Gav!”
“Fuck you both. I cum like a mother fucker!”
“What's the use in that!?” Ant chuckled, now back to jerking his cock, his heavy balls bouncing as he worked it.
“Ask your mum!” Gav shouted, his thick head glistening in the street light filtering in through the window.
That broke them. Laughter, full-bodied and stupid. Three sweaty blokes half-pissed, bare-arsed in their own beds, shouting bollocks across the hallway.
“Ohhh,” Liam laughed, “lad’s got balls!”
Liam watched the action and picked up his rhythm, matching the slap of Ant’s hand, then speeding it up. He stared right into Ant’s room now, who stared straight back in the gloom, both of them with cocky grins and no shame, cocks twitching in his grip.
Ant gwinked,“Fuckin’ race ya.”
Liam sped up, “Not with that pretty little moan you just made.”
Gav barked from his bed. “Girls like guys who can last, you dumb fucks.”
“Afraid you’ll lose?” Ant challenged.
Liam turned to see Gav sit up and face him, legs swing over the bed.
“I think he’s threatening me!” he joked, and felt his balls begin to pull in close.
All three of them where bucking into their fists now, showing off, cocks straining, solid, abs tensing, foreheads beaded with sweat, grins cocky as fuck, and the smell of precum and body odour filling their noses.
Liam felt close. Too close. His hips started twitching, his ass grinding in the mattress. His abs clenched. He squeezed hard and grunted—low, filthy, raw—and sprayed all over his own stomach, groaning through gritted teeth.
Ant kept going, watching Liam ride it out, hypnotised watching his mate spew his load.
“Fuuuck,” he let out, both impressed, and as an announcement.
He arched, his body rising off the bed, gasped, and fired into the air. Arcs of cum caught the light as they flew into the air, and landed in all over his torso.
Gav, who had clearly lost, suddenly stood, bent backwards, and then, face scrunched up, thrust his hips forward and aimed his cock right at Liam.
“Fucking take it!” he shouted, as his glands flared and his spunk shot in ropes, each one covering the distance between their beds, as hard wetness slapped against Liam’s torso, ricocheting into his face.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell!” he shouted, jumping back as Gav’s cum dripped down him body to join his own.
Ant was roaring with laughter, as Liam jumped off the bed, and stood, drenched in both means loads.
“What the hell?!”
But Ant was laughing hard, and Gav, who was still pumping out cum, just smiled.
“I fuckin’ told ya.”
Liam, whose own orgasm was finally fading, just shook his head and tried to suppress a smile.
“Wanker. Go get me a towel.”
Ant appeared at the door, one already in hand, whistled at the streaks of cum still working their way down Liam’s tattooed body. “Lad didn’t lie, did he?”
“So its settled, Ant’s biggest, Liam’s fattest, and I’m a fucking machine,” Gav said, and waved his cock so that left over spunk flung across the room.
Liam grabbed the towel, his cock still hard despite the truly epic load he’d shot, and surveyed the three of them. Gav, still solid, cum hanging from his head, his stubbled face flush with still reeling hormones. Ant, his married dong, hefty and curving downwards, shining in the half light, his carefully clipped beard wet with sweat.
They were fucking debauched, like students on a school trip experimenting in the dark, not grown men sharing a work digs.
With a smirk of his own, he began to wipe the thick semen from his hairless chest, “I hereby declare 32b Bank Place, the Wank Palace.”
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
